


Innocent Until Proven Guilty

by Calacious



Category: Jaws (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Crack, Gen, Jaws Point of View, Jaws needs therapy, Yuletide Treat, he's really misunderstood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5481773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaws is a kindhearted soul who just so happens to suffer from blackouts. He's looking for a good therapist who can help him recover his lost time, and maybe help others understand that he's not a cold-blooded killer. He's just misunderstood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innocent Until Proven Guilty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meh_guh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meh_guh/gifts).



> I read this story request: "Jaws: cracky idiocy from the shark's POV! It was a bee in my bonnet from a sleepover a couple of years ago to want a stupid, self-indulgent comedy about the shark just wanting to join in the party, guys! Silly and slapstick and id-fic, basically." and was inspired. Hopefully you enjoy this little treat, and it's cracky enough for you. 
> 
> I think Jaws might also have ADHD.  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own the character of this work of fiction, if I did, he would not have been treated as the monster he was made out to be, though, what kind of plot would that have been? I think it's good that I don't own this character.

If anyone's interested, I got some facts from: [Live Science Info about Great White Sharks](http://www.livescience.com/27338-great-white-sharks.html)

* * *

 

Why is it that everyone makes us into the enemy?

I mean, sure, we have sharp, pointy teeth, but it's not like we're going out of our way to slice into you or anything.

We're nothing like the big, bad wolf in, "Little Red Riding Hood".

Now _that's_ an evil villain if ever there was an evil villain. He's straight up stalking that Red girl, and is hell-bent on eating her.

He's like a serial human eater, and not at all by accident, mind you. He does it on purpose, and yet no one goes running through the woods pointing at wolves, and calling _them_ evil, and yelling bloody murder just because they're wolves.

They have sharp, pointy teeth, too, you know.

And, me?

Well, I'm just your average, trying to mind his own business, great white shark. Who just so happens to have -- accidentally, maybe (I'm not admitting to anything here)-- eaten a couple humans.

So, sue me.

I'm a shark. What do you want me to say? I'm sorry? I'll never do it again? I'm reformed?

You humans look a lot like seals to us, especially when you're flapping your arms about, doing a damned good impression of drowning.

And then when I come along, all friendly like, trying to help, you start up with the incessant, blood curdling screaming, and I gotta tell you, it really grates on the nerves.

It's not like I've got hands that I can clamp over my ears, or anything either.

Water just amplifies that sound, you know? Like a hundredfold.

Reverberates right through me like I've been caught in some kind of snare drum.

Seriously. Can you stop with the screaming every time you see me? Is that too much to ask?

It doesn't help; if anything it makes me see red, and then everything gets all fuzzy, and the next thing I know the water's dark with what looks like blood, and I've got no memory of what has transpired, just a rusty taste in my mouth. Like I've accidentally taken a chunk out of a rusted engine part, except much more pungent, and the scent of rusty nails tickles my nostrils.

I swear, I need therapy. Maybe hypnosis to help me recover the lost time from my blackouts. Anyone know a good therapist who doesn't mind getting a little wet around the gills?

Seriously, though, if you do know of someone who'd be willing to help me get a handle on these blackouts, be a pal and have him (or her, I'm not sexist) drop me a line.

I'm not above asking for help, unlike some of you up there; surface dwellers we call you. And by we, I mean other sharks. I'm not a  loner. I've got friends.

And that little nickname that you've saddled me with, Jaws, what's up with that?

Don't we _all_ have jaws? Humans and sharks alike?

How unoriginal, and need I toss out the phrase, politically incorrect?

I must admit, I find the moniker rather offensive. Where's an animal rights activist when I need one?

ASPCA, IDA, LCA, IUCN, or PETA?

Anyone?

I believe that I've got a whole laundry list of rights that have been violated by that sobriquet alone, not to mention that I've now got a host of humans hunting for my hide, and all because I tried to help a few of their kind out, and got yelled at for my trouble.

Talk about misunderstandings.

I'm just a shark, out minding my own business when I see a damsel in distress, and naturally, being the kind, helpful soul that I am, I swim on over and see what I can do to help.

What do I get in return for my trouble? An ear-piercing scream, followed by memory loss, and disorientation, and a hunting party out for my blood.

You know, I think that blackout thing might stem back to childhood trauma.

Did you know that my mother left me when I was just a young pup? I can still remember watching her tail, being caught up in the wake of the water as she swam (as fast as she could) away from me, ignoring my plaintive cries of, "Mama!" There were actual bubbles, she was swimming so fast.

Talk about your cold-blooded animals. Cold-blooded fits my mother to a T.

 _She's_ the shark that you should be out looking for. I'd like to give _her_ a piece of my mind. Leaving me alone like that. Lost. Lonely.

Small enough to become someone else's meal had I not been quick, and, not to brag or anything, a little smart for my age.

And don't even let me get started on my father. He was long gone by the time that _I_ was born. Mother never once mentioned him to me. Not that she stuck with me long after I was born or anything.

It's no thanks to my mother and father that I got to where I am today.

Or, maybe it _is_ thanks to them that I got where I am today, being hunted down like some cold-blooded, mindless killer out of some human need for ill-guided vengeance.

I'm a great white shark. I'm counted among the warm-blooded, capable of regulating my own body temperature, thank you very much.

I never meant to hurt anyone. I swear, I was only trying to help those people out. I don't even remember eating them, not that I am admitting that I did, in fact, eat them.

Like I mentioned earlier, I suffer from blackouts. Shouldn't I be considered innocent until proven guilty anyway? That's how the law works. I don't recall anyone reading me my Miranda Rights. Where's my fair trial? Can I get a lawyer?

Did you know that we are listed as vulnerable animals, in danger of being on the endangered species list? If you succeed in killing me, like you maintain I killed those 'innocent' people, then you may just be killing an entire species.

Ask yourself this, is revenge really worth the potential cost to the animal kingdom?

If you ask me, I don't think so.

But, I digress.

Where was I?

Right.

I'm not your enemy.

I'm a shark.

A great white shark who, from here on out, will simply ignore those who look like they're drowning.

The one you really should be hunting down is that man-eating wolf. He's already eaten someone's grandmother, and it's looking like he's going to have her granddaughter for dessert. If you're quick, you might be able to stop him.

Do I smell rusty nails? I'd better go investigate.


End file.
